The Reaper's Stand A Must read in my Opinion

As
Reapers Motorcycle Club president, Reese “Picnic” Hayes has given his entire
life to the club. After losing his wife, he knew he’d never love another woman.
And with two daughters to raise and a club to manage, that was just fine with
him. These days, Reese keeps his relationships free and easy—he definitely
doesn’t want to waste his time on a glorified cleaning lady like London
Armstrong.

Too bad
he’s completely obsessed with her.

Besides
running her own business, London’s got her junkie cousin’s daughter to look
after—a more reckless than average eighteen-year-old. Sure she’s attracted to
the Reapers’ president, but she’s not stupid. Reese Hayes is a criminal and a
thug. But when her young cousin gets caught up with a ruthless drug cartel, Reese
might be the only man who can help her. Now London has to make the hardest
decision of her life—how far will she go to save her family?

Excerpts

(Please choose one)

#ONE

“Okay,
let’s get some shit straight and then you can head out.” Great, here it came.
The Talk. Fortunately I was ahead of him for once.

“Don’t
worry, Reese. I know this was just a one-off for you, and that you don’t want a
relationship. That’s what I needed, too, so in a way it’s perfect. No harm, no
foul. We can just pretend this never happened.”

A scowl
covered his face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Us. Or
rather, the fact that there isn’t an ‘us.’ I get it—you like to sleep around. I
had a good time, but I’m not expecting a ring or anything.”

His eyes
widened, and I smirked.

“Although
I’ll be around if you want another booty call,” I added slyly.

Yay me! I’m a sophisticated woman who
knows the difference between love and sex.

Reese’s
scowl grew deeper, and then suddenly he moved and I was under him, pinned down
against the bed. He pulled my hands up, holding them prisoner above my head.

“Are you
fucked in the head?” he demanded harshly. “You get laid for the first time in
years, it’s phenomenal—”

“Well,
aren’t you the modest one?”

“It’s phenomenal,” he repeated, emphasizing
the word heavily. “And now you’re just going to ignore me? I am not fuckin’
down with that.”

#TWO

I heard
voices as I approached the door, which was open a crack. (The frame had swollen
up last winter and never quite gone back to normal, so you really had to fight
to close it all the way. It was sand- wiched on the repair list between fixing
the car and replacing the oven.)

“She’ll
never kick me out,” Jess declared, and her voice sounded a little smug. A
little slurred, too . . . Had she been drinking? Probably. “She’d feel guilty.
She’ll always take care of me because she has to—you don’t know shit about us.”

He
snorted.

“You
think she takes care of you out of guilt?” he asked. “Nope— she loves you,
although I can’t quite decide why. You need to figure out what you want to do
with your life, because you can’t just drain her dry forever. Sooner or later
she’ll be done with you.”

His words
sounded so close to my own thoughts it was almost creepy. It also made me feel
guilty, because the statement was so cold and hard. Not to mention true.

“It’s
none of your business.”

“London
is my business, little girl,” he said, and his tone was anything but nice. “I
have plans for her, and they don’t include her crying over your bullshit. Don’t
piss me off.”

#THREE

I
shuddered, and shook my head, burying my face in his shoulder as he started
working my clit harder. My hips twisted over his, grinding his cock down hard
as the tension built inside me.

“Ladies
first,” he whispered, then used his hand on my ass to lift me just enough for
him to shove three fingers down deep inside. Holy crap. I don’t know how he
pulled it off logistically and I didn’t care. All that mattered was the way he
filled me up and ground down on my clit at the same time. My heart was beating
too fast and I felt dizzy with need and desire and pleasure that wound so tight
I thought I might explode. Oh, God… please explode! Then it hit and I bit his
shoulder so I wouldn’t scream, waves of ecstasy shattering me. My body went
lump over his, and he pulled the hand that’d tortured me free. Then it was at
my mouth, pushing inside until I tasted myself all over him as he gripped my
jaw in a soft but firm hold.

“You
ready to suck my cock?”

I nodded
so fast it made me dizzy. Then I slithered down his body, ripping at his jeans
and pulling his belt free. he lifted his hips to help me, his erection
springing free to slap up against his belly. Id seen it before, of course, but
never quite this close and personal. We hadn’t had a normal courtship, and I
realized with a shock that we’d only had sex three times, total. Wow. Felt like
so much more than that.

A little
frission of excitement raced up my spine- there was so much more about him I couldn’t
wait to learn. I giggled, giddy and he grinned down at me, wrapping his fingers
tight into my hair.

“I feel
like a kid when I’m with you.”

“I do,
too,” I whispered back.

#FOUR

“Sit your
ass down,” he said, his brilliant blue eyes flashing. The absolute authority
and will in his tone was indisputable, reminding me that this was a very
dangerous man.

I sat.

Hayes
rose to his feet, coming to stand in front of me. Then he leaned down and
rested his hands on the back of the couch on either side of my head. His gaze
pinned me, and my adrenaline surged. What the hell was he planning to do?

“You do
realize where you are?” he asked softly, which was way scarier than it would’ve
been if he’d yelled at me. Quiet menace, carrying visions of bodies buried in
shallow graves . . .

“You’re
in my club. Outside this room are twenty men who will do anything to back me
up. Anything. And outsidethis building are forests and mountains that reach all
the way to Montana. Only witnesses out there are deer and maybe a moose or two.
You sure you wanna piss me off? I just pulled my dick out of a willing woman’s
mouth for you, so it’s not like I’m in a good mood to start with.”

I
couldn’t breathe. My heart beat so fast that I thought it might explode out of
my chest, and I knew for a fact that pissing him off was definitely the last
thing I wanted to do. “Now ask me nicely to help you,” he said, the words slow
and deliberate. I nodded, taking a minute to steel myself.

“Mr.
Hayes, will you please help me find my cousin, Jessica?”

“No.”

#FIVE

“Are you
gonna sit down or not?” he asked.

“I’m
really uncomfortable with”—I gestured toward the woman—“this.” “That’s not exactly
my problem,” he said, dropping a hand to rest on her head. “But if it’s an
issue, you can take her place.”

“No,” I
said quickly.

“Then sit
the fuck down and tell me why you’re here.”

His voice
tightened, and I realized he was running out of patience. Fair enough—he
obviously had other things on his . . .
ahem . . . mind. I carefully perched on the edge of the couch, facing the door.
This was actually better, I realized. I didn’t have to look at him now.
Although I could feel the woman’s movements through the furniture frame and
that was very creepy.

“My
cousin’s daughter is somewhere at this party,” I said quickly. “Her name is
Jessica, and she has very poor judgment. I’d really like to get her out of here
and home before she does something completely stupid.”

Like set
the building on fire.

“You got
shit timing.”

I didn’t
respond, because what the hell would I say? So far as I knew, Hallmark didn’t
make a “Sorry I Interrupted Your Oral Sex” card.

#SIX

“Has
Picnic given you a gun yet?” she asked, as if it were a per- fectly reasonable
question. I shook my head, wondering if I’d some- how missed half the
conversation.

“Just
sort of seeing where things stand,” she said, smirking. That made no sense at
all, so I decided to ignore it.

“Hi, I’m
Em,” said a young woman with brown hair and Reese’s eyes. I recognized her
immediately from the photos around his house and felt a sudden burst of nerves.
This was his daughter. The one who’d moved to Portland last year, leaving him
with an empty nest.

Why did I
suddenly feel like I was in a job interview?

“Hi,” I
said. “I’ve heard all about you. I didn’t realize you lived close enough to
come to a party, though. I thought you were in Port- land with your . . .” I fumbled
for the right word, because she didn’t seem old enough to use the term “old
man.” But I was pretty sure he was more than a boyfriend, and they weren’t
married. Awkward, trying to figure out how to say things.

“My old
man is Hunter,” she said, her eyes sparkling as she said his name. “He’s here
for the meet. Bunch of clubs coming together, but that doesn’t have anything to
do with us. Your only job here is to have fun, okay? Let’s go get you a drink
and we can talk. I want to get to know the woman who’s moved in with my dad.”

“I
wouldn’t say we’ve moved in together . . .”

“Have you
slept there more than one night?” she asked, her voice challenging. I nodded.
“Well, that’s more than he’s done with any other woman since my mom died.”

Damn. No
pressure there.

#SEVEN

"So
I guess this probably means our deal is off?"

Her voice
sounded uncertain, almost scared. Still a little slurred, too. I turned to
glare at her, taking in her tangled blonde hair, the curve of her generous hips
in those tight jeans and the way her shirt drooped low enough to show plenty of
cleavage.

"Not
if you want to keep the club accounts,"I growled, wondering why the hell I didn't just fire her ass. My cock
reminded me that we weren't finished with her yet. "I'll see you out at my
place on Tuesday. Make enough food for leftovers and maybe we'll have a talk
about getting a crew into The Line."

"Thank
you," she whispered.

"Eat
shit," I said, and then slammed out the door.

Seems like a bit of an overreaction, Heather gloated as I climbed into my truck.

She could
eat shit, too. Fucking women. Even dead, they stuck together.

Joanna is a freelance writer living in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho.
She started writing fiction in 2002, then took a long hiatus to explore other
writing opportunities. She returned to fiction in January 2013 with ‘Reaper’s
Property’, the first book in the Reapers Motorcycle Club series.